all the butterflies
by ProfessorSpork
Summary: In which Cosima and Delphine unwittingly (at first, and then quite wittingly) help Quinn and Rachel get together while going undercover to escape from Dr. Leekie.


Disclaimer: None of these are mine.

A/N Written for my friend Carter's (belated) birthday. She asked for Cophine helping Faberry get together, with a very particular backstory. I hope I've done the prompt justice, and Carter, I am so effing proud of you.

* * *

"I don't like this, Cosima."

Cosima fights the urge to roll her eyes. She's had this fight with Sarah so many times now, and if Sarah thinks that this moment—when Cosima is literally zipping up her suitcase to leave again—is going to be the deciding factor, she's delusional.

"We talked about this. You agreed."

"Because it makes sense. That doesn't mean I have to like it, yeah?"

And now Cosima's trying not to cry, because she knows Sarah loves her, in her own Sarah way, and that she's only looking out for her—for all of them—and honestly? She doesn't want to go.

She squares her shoulders and turns around.

"We stick to the plan and we're all back together in no time. I don't have the resources I need here, you know that. I have to go. But we did everything we could to throw them off my trail."

"Enrolling Delphine at another school under your name will slow them down for all of thirty seconds if they ever realize you lied to Alison."

"That's thirty seconds more that Cosima will have to escape," Delphine interjects quietly from the couch. "If it helps, it's worth it."

Cosima can't quite hide her smile at that, and Sarah runs a hand grumpily through her hair. Cosima takes a step forward, trying to catch her eye.

"Look, Yale is still closer than Minneapolis was. And with Delphine at Columbia, we can do twice the research in the same amount of time."

"Are you sure you don't want to go to school in Rochester?"

Cosima's heart is breaking, because this is not the Sarah she knew. "Sarah…"

"You're my family, Cosima, and it keeps disappearing. I'm not losing you."

"You won't. You just focus on getting Kira back. I'll follow the science."

"That's what you said last time."

Cosima winces, and she can see Delphine flinch on the couch. "Things are different, now."

She can no longer ignore the tightness in her chest.

* * *

She's left finding a place to kind of the last minute, but she didn't have a choice. She doesn't want to go on record getting housing from Yale, and without access to Alison's money it's not like she can afford an apartment on her own, so that leaves… well, this. Tearing a tab off of a Roommate Wanted poster someone hung outside the labs.

"Hi, is this Quinn? Yeah, I saw your ad on campus… still need a roommate?"

* * *

"So why post on the science building if you're a drama major?"

"Because if I have to deal with any more drama-drama, I'll scream."

Quinn isn't what she was expecting. She's not sure what she thought she was expecting in the first place, but… Quinn isn't it.

"Okay, fair enough. Any dealbreakers?"

"Just observing common courtesy. You're not a heavy drug user or anything, are you?" Quinn asks, a little too warily for it to be a joke.

Cosima swallows. "No. I used to smoke—not cigarettes—but… I'm trying not to anymore. Bad for my lungs. I do have this, um. A cough. Bronchial… condition… thing." She's been holding them back, but her hands lift from her lap and fly through the air anyway, trying in vain to illustrate her speech.

Quinn just leans in. "Really? That's—me too."

Alarm bells go off in Cosima's head. If it's spread outside her shared genome, if she's a threat to other people—

"I got into a car accident senior year of high school. Cracked ribs, collapsed lung, the works. I've still never really bounced back from that. I get pneumonia every winter, now."

Cosima looks Quinn over more closely—for science.

"You look pretty bounced back to me."

"Well, being stuck in a wheelchair for two months being told you'd never walk again set a pretty low bar."

"Wait, you taught yourself to walk again in two months? What was it, a broken leg?"

"Compressed spinal chord."

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah, that's pretty much what my doctors said. But I wanted to dance at Nationals with my show choir, so…" she trails off, laughing at herself a bit, but Cosima's head is spinning. The only person she's ever heard of to have a recovery time even remotely similar to that is Kira, and that's just…

That's not a road she's willing to think herself down.

* * *

Delphine struggles in New York.

It's not the classes—those are fine, easy even, as this is now the third time she's had to go through the same doctoral program, albeit with a slightly different curriculum. It's just that… well, it's lonely. She barely talks to her classmates, because when they talk back, they call her _Cosima, _so it's better to not try. But she's not used to not having people around. To not watching.

To not being watched.

She texts Cosima when she has to on her burner phone, but they've been trying to limit their communication to essential information sharing—the less they talk to each other, the less likely they can be traced back to one another. The last person she had an extended conversation with was Felix on Skype for a status update, and she's pretty sure he hates her.

So when she sees a "Help Needed" sign in the window of the diner she walks past every day on her way to the subway, she doesn't think twice. She just goes in. She's sure she can make the hours work for her, and the extra money will come in handy sooner rather than later.

But mostly, it will be a nice change of pace to be around people again.

* * *

"What do you mean you're stuck?" Sarah's concern practically radiates through the laptop screen.

Cosima's hands fumble about for a moment as she reflexively reaches for a joint, realizes that she won't be having one any time soon, and tries to look like she wasn't flailing around. "I mean I'm stuck. Every time I make progress on our DNA, the 'this is private property' code comes up again. I'm a pretty good biologist, but I'm not a hacker."

"So… what? We have to find a computer person or something?"

"If their program's as big as I'm starting to think it is, one of us probably already is. It would just be a question of finding her before they could stop us."

"What, a new… clone?"

"Well, an old clone. Just new to us. Beth's search only found people in the Northeast; there have to be more of us than that."

"I'm barely managing to stay on Mrs. S's trail before it gets cold _now_; how'm I supposed to track down someone else as well? Doing that got the German killed."

"Helena existing got the German killed, it's not the same thing."

"Cosima!"

"Okay, okay. I'm thinking. It's just—there's only so much I can do with the information I have."

"Well you've got to do better than that."

She doesn't really have a response to that, because all she can think about is how conversations with Sarah went so much better when she could be stoned while they happened, when suddenly—

"Hey. I don't mean to interrupt, but can we talk?"

Cosima spins in her chair to see Quinn standing in her doorway, and shit, how long was she there?

"Uh, yeah Q, one sec. Let me just—we'll talk later, sis, okay? Bye." She closes her laptop violently, as if doing it fast enough will erase Sarah's image from Quinn's mind. "Yeah?"

"You and your sister look insanely alike."

"Yeah, well, being twins will do that."

Quinn raises an eyebrow. "Then where's your British accent?"

Cosima forces a laugh, but thankfully, she's had this lie prepared for a while. "Wow, you thought that was real? She's going to flip. She's doing this community theater thing and she's decided that the best way to do the accent right is to just use it 24/7."

Quinn chuckles. "God, that sounds like something Rachel would do. I'd kill her after two hours."

"Rachel?"

"A friend of mine from high school."

"She's an actress like you?"

Quinn's chuckling turns into outright laughter, which is… kind of a first. "Also an actress, yes, but… not like me."

Cosima smiles, but she can't quite make it reach her eyes. "Anyway, you said you needed to ask me something?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm taking Bioethics to get my science requirement out of the way, but the last science class I ever took was AP Physics, so I'm totally lost. But then I thought—if anyone is qualified to tutor me on some of this genetics stuff, it would probably be you, so…"

Cosima heaves an internal sigh of relief. "Oh, totally dude. No problem."

* * *

"Hey, Cosima! Wait up!"

It's lucky Delphine can't stop herself from turning around whenever she hears someone say _Cosima_ out of habit_, _because for someone who was paid to be undercover for an embarrassingly long time, she's kind of awful at it.

"Yes? It's—Rachel, right?"

Her coworker smiles widely. "Yeah! Look, we were wondering if you wanted to go out to drinks or something with us."

"We?"

"Me, Santana and Dani," she says, waving her hand back towards two other girls who are still standing at the diner entrance. "Dani took us under her wing right when we started at the diner, but you've been working here a week and we don't know anything about you, it's been so hectic. So… what do you think?"

She should say no. Yes, she wanted to be around people, but this seems excessive somehow. She should really say no…

* * *

"So how long have they been going out?" Delphine asks Rachel as they watch Dani and Santana get lost in each other on the dance floor.

"Just a few weeks, but they're so cute together, right? I set them up."

"And are you…?" Dephine doesn't even know how to finish that question, so she takes a sip of her drink instead.

"Am I what?" Rachel asks, looking lost for a moment before it hits her. "Oh! I've only ever dated men before, but I'd like to think that I'm fluid enough to recognize if someone amazing came along. I mean, my Daddy thought he was straight until he met Dad."

The song that had been on ends, and all of a sudden Santana is leaning over Delphine's lap, trying to get to her glass of water.

"Sorry, new girl, Auntie Snix needs to get her hydration on," she says breezily, and Dani laughs.

Rachel, on the other hand, looks peeved. "For the last time, Santana, nicknames are for friends, not acquaintances or enemies. It's Cosima."

"Actually, it's Delphine," Delphine blurts.

"It is?" Dani asks, looking intrigued. "Why haven't you corrected us, we've calling you the wrong thing. Your name tag says—"

"Delphine is my middle name, but I prefer it. When I'm with my friends, I mean," she adds nervously.

Rachel beams. "Ohh, just like Quinn!"

"Quinn?"

"Our friend who goes to Yale, she—"

"Been there, tapped that, can we talk about someone more interesting?" Santana interjects. Rachel gasps.

"You have not, why would you say that?"

"Have so! When we all went back to Lima for Schuester's wedding that wasn't. Guess you were too busy having ex-sex with the Pillsbury Don't Boy to notice."

Rachel suddenly reaches out and grabs Santana by the shoulders, pulling her close. For a long moment she does nothing but stare into Santana's eyes—apparently trying to judge the veracity of her statement—while Santana smirks.

Then, Rachel's jaw drops.

"Oh my god! You actually slept with Quinn!"

"Can we go back to the part where we were changing the subject?" Dani asks.

"It was before I met you."

"I know, that doesn't mean I want to hear the dirty deets."

"…Deets?" Delphine ventures.

Rachel spares her a sympathetic look. "Details. And anyway, yes, let's change the subject. Although, speaking of people stepping out of their sexual comfort zones, I was just telling Cos—sorry, _Delphine, _that I would date the right girl if she came along."

"Like you can make a girl come."

"Santana!" Dani admonishes, thwapping her on the shoulder. "Rude."

"What about you, Frenchie?" Santana asks, turning to Delphine.

"Can I—?" Delphine echoes in alarm, Cosima's _'it showed' _echoing loudly in her ears as she glances suspiciously at the glass of wine she's been nursing all night.

Santana laughs. "No, just—have you?"

"My last, uh… partner, was female, yes."

Santana laughs, and puts down her water glass in favor of the beer bottle she'd left next to it. "To the lady-gayest diner in New York," she toasts, raising her beer.

Delphine drains her wine glass.

* * *

"Oh my god, you don't think—"

"What?"

"You don't think they're our monitors, do you?"

It took them two more months to realize that Quinn and Rachel knew each other, which kind of reveals the flaw in the "don't call unless it's an emergency" plan. It damn well felt like an emergency earlier today when Rachel'd walked into Quinn's apartment and, after introducing herself, shook her head and said "I always thought it was so funny that I went my whole life without meeting a single Cosima only to hear about two within a week of each other."

"You know another Cosima?" Cosima had laughed nervously, because—red flag red flag red flag.

"I do! We work together. But she actually goes by her middle name, like Quinn does."

"Quinn's your middle name?" Cosima had asked, turning to her roommate, who looked about ready to murder their guest.

"That's privileged information, _Rachel._"

"Anyway, she was also my first Delphine, so there's that."

Which brings Cosima back to the present—hiding in the bathroom with her burner phone pressed to her ear. She'd have used her own bedroom, but the door lock doesn't work, and this might be life or death.

From 90 miles away, Delphine sighs. "Of course not. If they were, they wouldn't have just outed themselves like that. It is simply a very strange coincidence; it has to be."

"I'm a scientist, I don't really believe in coincidence."

That makes Delphine laugh, and for a second Cosima closes her eyes just listens. "Correlation isn't causation, Cosima. Things happen. They don't have to be related."

"Yeah, but—" Cosima can't finish her sentence, because she breaks into an unexpected coughing fit.

"…Cosima?" Delphine asks quietly when the coughing finally stops.

"I'm fine," Cosima says, staring down at her miraculously dry palm. "No blood this time, promise."

"You need to take care of yourself. You're working too hard, staying up too late at the lab."

"I _need_ to get more research done. I'm starting to make headway, and tutoring Quinn is actually really helpful; it reminds me to go back to basics. I'll—we should meet soon. To discuss our findings."

"Our findings, of course," she echoes, and Cosima smiles at the exasperation in Delphine's voice.

"I should get back out there, or Rachel will think I'm weird."

"You are weird," Cosima says affectionately. "But Rachel's weirder."

"Is she?"

"Mon dieu, yes. But you should go."

"Meet soon?"

"Yes, soon."

When Cosima emerges from the bathroom, she finds Quinn at her laptop showing Rachel the play she's writing for class. Rachel leans over her shoulder, so close their cheeks are almost touching. Cosima can see her hand absently gathering and releasing, gathering and releasing the bottom hem of Quinn's blazer.

_They wouldn't have just outed themselves like that, _Delphine had said.

Cosima wonders.

* * *

They decide to meet in Norwalk, CT, because it just about splits the difference in the distance between them. Delphine registers a room at a hotel called Zero Degrees under the name Daphne Newhouse and waits at the bar, feeling strangely foolish.

When Cosima walks in and sees her, she doesn't say a word—their lips are already melding, and god, it has been _months. _Cosima's mouth tastes of pennies; Delphine does not mention it.

The room has a frosted glass window that looks into the shower from the bedroom. Delphine likes it very much.

"Imagine if you were just passing through and you had to share this room with your dad or something, though," Cosima joked later, when they were lazing between the sheets eating room service. "Awkward."

"Americans are so shy about having bodies," Delphine teases back.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, unrelated, but—I think Quinn and Rachel are in love with each other."

* * *

Quinn comes out to Cosima in March. It's a long story, full of angst and backstabbing and pregnancy, but at the end of her monologue all Cosima can say is,

"So this is about Rachel, right?"

Quinn opens her mouth to argue, but then she deflates, curling into the couch and wrapping her arms around her knees. "Yes, this is about Rachel."

"So why are you telling me? Tell her."

"Um, because Rachel's straight?"

Cosima smirks. "Take it from someone who knows: that doesn't always mean much."

"But—"

"Oh my god, you could be halfway to the train by now. Go!"

"It's not that easy! We weren't always friends, you know, I bullied her, I tore her down, I—"

"But now you do the opposite. Look. The last girl I was with? Straight. And kind of not a great person sometimes. She was manipulating me, and I knew it but I let her because I just wanted to be around her. It started out really unhealthy, but once we had that fight and talked about it? It got way better. But you'll never know unless you take a chance and make some crazy science with her."

Quinn sighs, but deigns to look up with a raised eyebrow. "Crazy science, huh?"

"Or kissing. You could start with that."

"Cosima…"

"Go. You'll miss your train."

"There'll be another one," Quinn says, even as she's standing up.

Cosima shrugs. "Yeah. But why wait?"


End file.
